“Behind the tough exteriors

  others put up for us to witness,

  lies the broken hearts of lost

  souls.”

  - Blackwez Odinguz,

  Philosopher of the

  1st Age.

  Chapter 27: High Rock Prison

  “Come on, there must be more to the story than that!” Luminous insisted.

  “Nothing really more to tell,” Koga replied, not feeling like elaborating on how close to death Luminous had actually come, or on any of the other details. Thankfully, she had no injuries that would cause any permanent damage. Still, the fact that she had suffered some injury was troublesome to him. Now that he had the power, it was his goal something like that would not happen ever again.

  “Well… at least you can tap into your power now. Some of it, anyway,” Luminous remarked, letting go of the subject.

  The two had made their way to the nearest city from Thunder Mountain. A small mining town called Freshla, the city was a haven for those seeking refuge from the law. All manner of criminals and wanted individuals resided here because of it, knowing they would never be extradited. In return, the town received cheap labor for the mines. Koga figured this was as good a place as any to find a ship. Or, at least, someone who could take them where they needed to go. He of course would have reached out via H.I.C. to his comrades, but his comms had taken damage. Any communication through an unsecure channel could put Luminous or his friends at risk. The Triumvirate would be looking for him.

  “What’s the name of this town, again?”

  “Freshla,” Koga answered.

  “Nothing ‘fresh’ about this place. So, should we find this Bombad guy first, or the ‘Red Raven’?” Luminous asked, looking around the muddy, filth ridden town.

  “We’ll need to find a ship first. Or someone with one. Then, to High Rock.”

  “This sure is a filthy place,” she remarked, as the townsfolk noticed how out of place the two looked.

  Finding a bar/inn named The Hole, Koga knew that this would be the best place to find what they were looking for. The two stepped inside. The foul odor inside hit him right away. He quickly turned the filter on his armor on.

  The two looked very out of place inside the rabble filled, subpar establishment. Roughians and miners of all kinds sat at tables and the bar. The dimly lit room was decorated in last century’s decor. It had seen better days. Still, it seemed to be doing well when it came to business.

  Koga walked up to the bar, as Luminous followed rather timidly behind him. This was not exactly how Koga expected her first outside world experience to go. Still, perhaps she could appreciate that it was a new experience. More than that, she could see for herself just how corrupt some parts of the world were.

  “What can I do ya for?” the bartender asked, directing his question to Koga.

  “We’re looking to purchase a ship,” Luminous spoke up, trying to find her confidence, despite clearly being socially anxious.

  “What kind of coinage ya lookin’ to pay with?” the bartender asked.

  “Golden Debluns,” she responded. Koga looked around wearily, as everyone perked up at what she said. He had wished she had spoken her words more quietly, as Golden Debluns were incredibly rare and valuable. More so than the average currency.

  “I don’t believe I heard ya right, missy. Did ya say, ‘Golden Debluns?’”

  Koga gently put his hand on her shoulder, indicating they should be going. Luminous understood, taking note of the situation. She then backed away, as Koga scanned the room.

  “I think we’ll be leaving now,” she said. “Thank you.”

  “Oh, I think not, missy. Grab ‘em, boys!” the bartender ordered, reaching for a sword he had under the bar.

  Koga was ready for a fight, but Luminous’ fear caused her to start the conflict preemptively. Taking a fighting stance, she cupped her hands together, and sent a blast of light into a group of miners charging them. The blast incapacitated them, and caused the others in the bar to flee out the doors, including the bartender.

  Luminous sighed.

  “Well, so much for that, heh heh,” she spoke, looking at Koga rather guiltily for acting so hastily.

  “Now we’re going to have to deal with the authorities,” Koga explained.

  “Looking for a ship?” a female voice from the corner asked. “I can get you out of here… for a price.”

  The woman who sat in the corner wore light armor, had a jetpack on her back, and was covered in knives from head to toe. Judging by her pointed ears, he determined she must have been elvish. Koga also determined her to either be a mercenary, smuggler, bounty hunter, or some combination of the three. She was apparently unphased by Luminous’ show of power. That was good. The last thing they needed was to scare off a helping hand.

  “How much?” Luminous asked.

  “All of it. Every last Deblun you have.”

  “That’s out of the-” Luminous began.

  “Deal,” Koga interrupted, typing out his answer on his H.I.C. for the elf to read.

  “What?” Luminous said, flabbergasted.

  “Not much at bargaining, are you? Destination?” the elf replied, seemingly suspicious.

  “High Rock Prison.”

  The elf laughed. A look of understanding appeared on her face. Koga knew it would require all this elf had to get them there.

  “Let it never be said that the great Lady Zinfandel squelched on a deal,” she replied. “Follow me. Renta-cops will be showing up any second.”

  *

  Zinfandel was a clever pilot. She had managed to not only get them out of Freshla and into the country of Romulus without detection, but also past security measures that both protected and hid High Rock prison from the rest of the world. Landing in the forest near the base of the prison, she dropped her passengers off with a smile and her personal business mark.

  “Should you ever want to pay me so handsomely in the future, here’s my information. That is, if you can make it out of this place alive,” she jeered.

  Flying away in her ship, Luminous and Koga now stood alone in the moonlit forest. The tall trees nearly overshadowed their view. Looking up at the prison, they could see it was quite old on the outside, much like Deathlock. It was more like a castle in design, however. In some ways, it reminded him of the old witches’ home. Koga did not sense anything good from it.

  As they walked forward to get a better look at it, Luminous gently touched his arm.

  “Hey, you alright?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “I could probably go in and get him if you wanted to stay out here,” Luminous offered, seeming to sense his anxiety.

  Koga turned towards her. He brushed her hair playfully, messing it all up. Luminous protested, laughing.

  “Hey, stop!”

  “Don’t need you tearing up this place, too,” he teased.

  “Not much I could have done to mess up the look of that bar,” she joked. “So… now what?”

  “Now, I teach you a little bit about infiltration.”

  *

  The suns had not yet risen to meet High Rock Prison. The moon was full. Creatures of the night roamed and howled, acting madder than usual. Some said it was the moon. Others, something in the air. Or, perhaps, they sensed a chaos that was to come.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Deep in the bowels of the prison, a Vikyn, Xar mixed man stood bound. His skin was vermillion red, and his eyes were black and yellow. His hair and beard were long, black, and unkept. His body, once toned and muscular, was now sickly and frail.

  Tethered to a torture device designed specifically to keep him contained, the Red Raven slept. Rudely slapped awake, he lifted his eyelids to look upon the kommandant of the prison: Alexar Isaac. A grizzled, unkept, ugly man, Alexar looked the part of a torturer. He also acted how he looked quite well.

  “Wake up, scum,” Alexar roared, slapping him once again. “I hope you’re in a talkative mood today.”

  “I hope you’re not,” Corvid Pane, the Red Raven, winced. “Your breath smells like dead rats.”

  He slapped him again, but Corvid did not care. This made Alexar even more angry. Again, he slapped him.

  “If you don’t talk today, it’s over. Thanator is done with you.”

  Corvid laughed maniacally.

  “I thought you’re not supposed to say his name?”

  The man’s face turned red.

  “Well, I’m not done with him.”

  Alexar chuckled nervously, prompting his men to chuckle along with him.

  “You’ve been here twelve years, Pane. You really think you’re getting out of here?” he mocked.

  Corvid smiled, his grin sending a shiver down the Kommandant’s spine.

  “Yes.”

  It was true. He had spent twelve torturous years here. Years where the strands tying his sanity to his mind were strained every waking moment. Twelve years of pain, torture, and unsatiated rage. Despite all this, one thing kept him motivated beyond all else in his times of great despair: vengeance.

  “Good luck with that,” Alexar scoffed.

  Alexar walked over to a table to Corvid’s left. From there, he threw his bag of tools and devices onto the table. Corvid laughed maniacally, knowing more torture was to come. He did not care. He had become immune to it.

  Before being able to grab the first torture instrument of the day, the warning alarm began to whale over the speakers. Activating his H.I.C., Alexar called his vice kommandant to see what the problem was. Blesli answered immediately.

  “What is going on, Blesli?!”

  “Someone is cutting power to the containment device!” Blesli replied, panicked.

  “Turn on the reserves, and lockdown the facility! Nobody in or out!”

  “But sir, you know that won’t stop him if-”

  “It’s for the intruders, you blitherin’ idiot! Now do it!”

  “Yes sir,” Blesli sheepishly replied.

  As the transmission ended, Alexar turned to Corvid.

  “Friends of yours?”

  Corvid grinned. Then he laughed. A crazed, maniacal, almost diabolical laugh. It resounded through the room like a disease, infecting everyone within ear shot with fear. Alexar slapped him, telling him to shut up, but he would not. He kept laughing as the kommandant backed away from his prisoner. Fear was gripping him, now. The same Corvid had worked to destroy inside himself for all these years.

  “K-Kill him boss! Kill him before they let him loose,” one of Alexar’s men petitioned frantically.

  “Yes… yes…” Alexar responded, still stuck in his trance of fear.

  Alexar knew what he could do. Why an entire prison was dedicated to containing only one prisoner. Once freed, there would be no stopping him. As he slowly exited his trance-like state, he withdrew his blade, and activated it.

  “Goodbye, monster,” Alexar weakly spoke, thrusting his blade forward. As he did, the lights in the room went dark. Only the hue from his glowing blade remained lit. It occupied the space where Corvid once stood. Corvid Pane had disappeared.

  “He’s…” one of the guards began, gulping, “ ...gone.”

  *

  Corvid lifted his eyes to see it. After all these years, it was just as he remembered it. White. With more white. As he lay on its white floor, he wondered when his old friend would appear. Until then, he had another mission: to heal his body.

  The space he occupied was unlike anything else he had seen in all the galaxies he had visited. It was more like the afterlife. Or, what he imagined someone’s interpretation of an afterlife to be. There was no shadow. No sun. No moon. No concept of time. Only white. And more white. An endless white plane, with no beginning or end.

  Teleporting here had been no easy task. He would have to practice using his gift before going back to start exacting his revenge. In a place where time was nearly timeless, that should be easy enough.

  “You shouldn’t be here, Corvid.”

  “Mr. Knight!” Corvid spoke, greeting his friend in the armor from the prone position.

  “I’d stand up to greet you but, as you can see, my muscles are a bit atrophied.”

  “What happened to you?” Mr. Knight inquired, picking Corvid up by the ankle and looking him over.

  Standing 3 meters tall, Mr. Knight was a very tall knight, who wore all white armor. His face could not be seen, and his armor could not be removed. In this place Corvid called, “the timeless plane,” he was a guardian of sorts. A keeper of the void. A lost soul like himself. So lost, the only name he could remember being called by was what Corvid grew to call him.

  “Oh you know… twelve years of torture and malnutrition. You, on the contrary, look as healthy as a manticore!”

  “You know Mr. Gray doesn’t like you staying on his plane of existence,” Mr. Knight warned, now cradling his old friend. “But I suppose if you make your visit quick, I can let you stay,” he continued, walking towards a pile of things off in the distance.

  “Thanks buddy. I won’t be long,” Corvid responded. “How you been?”

  “It’s been a lonely year, Corvid. Nobody to play chessker with. Mr. Gray hasn’t been back in a long time.”

  “Do you still have that Play Station I left you?” Corvid asked, sympathetic to his old friend’s plight.

  “The… ‘batchary’ ran out,” Mr. Knight responded, incorrectly pronouncing the word, as he did with so many others.

  “Ah. I’m sorry buddy. I’ll get you a new one. Do you still have my things I asked you to keep?” he inquired.

  “Yes,” Mr. Knight answered.

  “Great!” Corvid replied, ecstatic such was the case.

  “But I ate all your tart children,” Mr. Knight replied guiltily.

  “You mean the Sour Patch Kids?”

  “Yes,” Mr. Knight continued, hanging his head low.

  “Hey, hey, that’s okay buddy. I just need my tranquilizeam to heal.”

  “I didn’t touch that.”

  “Good,” Koga responded, relieved.

  Arriving at the stockpile Corvid had left there years ago, he asked his friend to put him to his feet. After stumbling and falling, he managed to get up, only to fall again. Mr. Knight tried to help him up, Corvid insisted on doing it himself.

  “Thank you, my friend. But I need to do this,” he requested, lifting himself up.

  Walking slowly and carefully, he began to search through his things. Looking in a mirror he had left behind, he saw his reflection for the first time in all these years. His hair and beard were long and black. His face was sunken, and there were bags under his black and yellow eyes. His red skin looked worn and beaten. Despite all that, he looked like he had not aged.

  “Guess they didn’t lie about that fountain after all,” he muttered under his breath.

  “Ah, here it is,” he continued.

  Ingesting the thimble sized pill, he felt the effects of the drug immediately. It made him incredibly tired. So tired that he immediately fell asleep. It was not until he woke up later that he could tell it had done anything. His muscles felt better and more restored. He was able to stand and move on his own now.

  “How long have I been out?” Corvid asked Mr. Knight, who sat near him playing jacks.

  “Since you fell asleep, I’ve played 13,127 games,” Mr. Knight responded.

  “Oh no,” he remarked. “It’s time for me to get to work.”

  For the next month, he worked tirelessly to get his body, his mind, and his power back in shape. Doing various H.I.I.T. routines and teleporting regularly, he got back in balance, all while listening to endless Sabaton playlists. Finally, he was feeling more like his old self again.

  After all his training, and eating more M.R.E.’s than he cared to count, Corvid was ready to begin. Putting on his light armor with no helmet, he then grabbed his trusted weapons of choice: twin axes of Vikyn design. He decided for starters this is all he would need. After finishing his business at High Rock Prison, he would then obtain a hot meal, and look for more supplies.

  “Don’t come back here,” Mr. Knight warned as Corvid readied himself. “But when you do, bring me back a ‘batchery’.”

  “I’ll try, my friend. And some ‘tart children,’” Corvid replied, smiling.

  “Oh, that would be quite nice,” Mr. Knight joyously replied, his mellow, deep voice taking on a more excited turn.

  “Now,” Corvid began ominously, “time for some laughter... with an s on the front.”

  The prisoner had been gone for fifteen minutes. It sounded as though he had teleported away somehow. Despite how much time had passed, the kommandant’s men still could not get the power up. Therefore, the prison was on a complete lockdown. Instead of keeping the prisoner in, it now kept the captors contained. Alexar and his men desperately searched for some way to escape.

  While taking advantage of the confusion, Koga and Luminous searched for the Red Raven, but to no avail. That was, until he teleported right in front of them. The two faced off against him in an abandoned hallway. They raised their weapons against the stranger, startled by his sudden appearance. Koga had not sensed him until he had appeared, which was deeply disconcerting to him. The Red Raven was the first to lower his twin axes, and offer greeting.

  “You two must be my rescuers,” he said with a grin.

  The wild eyed man seemed to unsettle Luminous. Very few people could not be read by Koga’s senses and discerning gaze, but this man fell into that category. Based off the abilities he had demonstrated, and his crazed demeanor, he came to a logical conclusion.

  “Red Raven?” Luminous asked, beating Koga to the punch.

  “The one and only. Now, grab ahold of me, and let’s get out of here,” he replied, reaching out both his hands.

  Neither Koga nor Luminous jumped at the chance. They had been keenly warned to watch this man carefully. His unpredictability made him one of the most dangerous people in their galaxy, and they did not take Mitamin’s warning lightly. Sensing their reservedness, the Red Raven began to laugh.

  “Someone must have warned you about me,” he grinned.

  Teleporting behind them, he placed his hands on their shoulders. Quickly, before they could react, he then teleported them outside into a valley. Walking away from the two of them as they regained their senses, he grabbed his twin axes from his back.

  “Stay here. I’ll be back for you,” he uttered, just before teleporting away again. Stunned, Luminous turned to Koga in bewilderment.

  “Well… should we stay here, or…?”

  Koga, realizing there was little more they could do, sat on the ground. The earth below was grassy and soft. It seemed their mission, so far, was a success. Luminous followed suit. Looking up at the prison, she shook her head.

  “I hope grandfather knows what he was talking about when it comes to this guy. I don’t trust him.”

  Sign speaking back, Koga replied, “Neither do I.”

  *

  At dawn’s first light, the prison finally received power once more. How or why, none of the guards could say. None of them cared at this point. Corvid Pane, the “Red Raven,” was free, and all any of them wanted to do was live to see another day.

  Alexar was the first to press the activation button for the entrances. As the main door to the prison slowly began to open, and the suns’ lights seeped through, a song began to play over the loudspeakers. It was the calling card for their own personal harbinger of death.

  “At Dawn’s First Light,” by Amon Amarth roared over the P.A. speakers, as the singer warned them of what was to come with his lyrics. The guards furiously began pushing up against the large, iron door, desperately seeking their freedom. Corvid wanted to give them a smidget of hope, just before taking it all away.

  In amusement, he cut the power to the prison. Only Alexar made it through the door before it slammed shut onto three unlucky guards. Heaving in fear and panic, the fat man ran onto the bridge as fast as he could away from the prison. Turning to look back, and then forwards, he stopped and fell back as Corvid now stood directly in his path.

  “I… have denari… lots of it. It’s all yours if you let me go,” Alexar pleaded, crawling away from Corvid. “Please, Pane… I… I have children, a wife…”

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk Alexar… we all know your wife is the drink, and your children the smokes you have every evening before bed. So here’s what I’m going to do…” Corvid began, as Alexar began to cry.

  “I’m going to give you a chance to marinate in your own marital juices…” he continued, pulling out a bottle of Disdopian Ale and pouring it all over him.

  In his best impression of a mob boss, he replied, “You’re fired.” Lighting the kommandant ablaze with a match, Corvid watched in satisfaction as the fat man burned. Wailing in agony, he rolled around to put the fire out, but it was to no avail.

  Jumping off the bridge, Alexar met a swift end on the rocks below. Satisfied the monster was dead, Corvid teleported back inside to finish off the rest of the guards. He had no remorse in killing them. They were all scum. Pedophiles. Rapists. Murderers. They deserved what they were about to receive.

  As the music continued to play, he emerged from the shadows like a wraith to frighten them. Some ran. Some stood to fight. The former were cut down easily. The latter were toyed with until they were bested by his superior fighting prowess. No one stood a chance.

  Corvid threw them from ledges. Killed them with their own weapons. Cut them down with his twin axes. Every enemy swing of the blade and axe, every wrist gun laser fired, and every explosive they set off did no good. He teleported quickly from foe to foe, terrorizing them. Laughing maniacally as they were slaughtered one by one.

  None could oppose him. Some tried, but no one succeeded. He was too quick. His teleportations were too zany and sporadic. One could never know where he was going to be next. He could teleport anywhere at any time with just a thought. Some tried using the tools they had been given to stop him, but none were effective. Nets. Tasers. Mines. Energy grenades. Auto targeting rifles. Nothing could touch him. They were at his mercy, and for them, no mercy would be shown.

  When the music finally stopped, they were all dead. His axes dripped and sizzled with the blood of each one of them. The prison was now nothing more than a graveyard. A tomb. A warning.

  Before leaving, Corvid became solemn, as he let go of his berserker state. Methodically, he then braided his hair and his beard. For his beard, he braided it into five strands. For his head, he made only one. Cutting off one of the strands on his beard, he then placed it just outside the main door to the prison. Such was tradition amongst the Vikyn when taking on a sacred vow of vengeance.

  “Before I am through, there will be no hair to braid,” he thought, going to rendezvous with his two rescuers. “I will have my revenge, no matter the cost.”